The Survival Guide
by Eines Zwei Drei
Summary: The seperate lives of Seth, and Ryan the summer before they begin high school.
1. Seth Cohen: Stealth

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the OC, nor any of its characters. But the 13 year old Seth, Ryan and Marissa characterizations are products of my own strange mind.

**Authors Note:** The first three chapters will be short introductions for each characters and then after that they will be longer.

R/R ;)

* * *

Seth Cohen was a man with a plan. He had devised it, revised it and perfected it. 

It was the Seth Cohen survival guide.

If all thing went according to plan it would get him through his first upcoming year at Harbour, it would see him through Water polo players, it would snake him past rejection via summer, and he could survive newpsies, and the Newport teenage elite that was simply obsessed that he was the scum of the Earth. The plan would not change his reputation, but it would save him. It would get him through high school and out of Newport in one piece and that was all that mattered.

It called for many things, good music, a play station, a bag of grass, a sailboat, and a skateboard.

Seth had it all worked out, these things would save his life.

Seth, was stealth. Which meant by definition he could lie, he could bend the truth, he could generalize, and he could do it well. Especially when it came to his parents.

How was school?

Fine.

How was sailing?

Fine.

How was the pier?

Fine.

So maybe his lying was not the issue, but rather his ambivalence. In how being thrown against a fence and called a queer, sailing half way to Catalina, and buying weed could all fall under the same guise. Everything was fine, everything was cool. Goddamn he was stealth.

Seth had this drug thing down pat. He had gotten his D.A.R.E. certification, he had had the 'talk' with his Dad, he had seen the after school specials of heroin junkies living in garbage dumpsters. But none of that had prepared him for sharing his first joint with two 'Street Fight II' addicts behind the arcade on the pier. This was survival after all.

He always bought from the same guy (Street fight II addict #1), kept it in the same place (In his Jenga box) and always smoked it in the same places (his sailboat, and under the pier). He had his rules mostly because he had strongly suspected his father was an ex-pot head and therefore could be a potential German shepherd when it came to smelling it on him. So what better than a strong salt water breeze to blow it right off?

The pot kept him mellow, kept him from drowning in self pity of his sad pathetic little life, his emo music served as evidence that he wasn't alone. His play station got out his pent up anger, and his skateboard and his sailboat were his escape.

Now he had two months of freedom, of sweet leave the house in the morning, come back at night, parents at work freedom, before he started ninth grade at the dreaded Harbour school.

Life sucked, but he'd survive.

* * *

**TBC**- With Ryan's survival guide.  



	2. Ryan Atwood: Shocks

**Disclaimer:** I don't own a thing. Josh & Co., own all.

**A/N:** I decided to axe Marissa out of this story. Angsty 13 year old boys are enough fun, without out throwing in an angsty, perhaps anorexic Marissa..

The next chapter will be much longer, I promise. R/R :)

* * *

Ryan Atwood had life all figured out. At 13, life was all about flying under radar, undetectable, invisible, but perhaps more importantly, the occasional shock. The occasional loud blip on the radar, the appearing in a cloud of fire. If you lived under radar all the time people wouldn't remember you, they wouldn't respect you, they wouldn't fear you. But if every once and awhile you did something that opened people's eyes a little wider, made them go a little slack jawed, then the respect, the remembrance, the fear it was all yours. There was something about those strong silent types, and Ryan Atwood had that shit down. 

Shocks made you appear to look fearless, impulsive, perhaps slightly on edge. Appear being the key word there because Ryan never did anything impulsive. He weighed every odd, measured all consequences and he almost always knew what would happen in the end.

Hitting Dawn's coke-head boyfriend, Dave was a shock. Full flat out, right in the jaw, all his weight, all his strength. It had taken Dave's breath away, and Dawn's too.

It was a bolt of lightening right there: I'm not a little boy anymore, you fucking want to mess with me, be ready.

Trey walking in to find his on-again, off-again girl half naked on Ryan's bed, with Ryan underneath her was a shock.

To the girl, and all the talk she would spread with her girls it was, watch out Trey's little brother is coming up in the world, and he knows how to handle it.

To Trey, it was simply a warning, to cancel off the kid brother stereotype, Ryan wouldn't be fitting in it anymore.

Ryan never shocked himself, he was way too calculating for that. He knew too well what happened to spontaneous people, Dawn was one, Trey another. And where had they gone?

Dawn had two unwanted children, a husband in jail, an alcohol problem and a long string of unsavoury boyfriends.

And Trey? Trey had a few lock ups in Juvie, an expulsion from school, and a memo 'enjoy the view this is as far as you go, it's all downhill from here.'

Ryan had no such intentions, he was graduating from elementary school tomorrow. Which meant he had four years left, four years to get his high school diploma and get the hell out of Chino. But first he had to survive Chino Hills, and that was a whole different ball game.

Simply flying under the radar may work at home, with Dawn who was never that smart, or in his eighth grade class were most kids were still a little too naïve. But at Chino Hills the boys were tough, the girls were hot, and anyone attempting to fly under the radar was a target real quick. You needed shock, and you needed respect.

Ryan Atwood was a man with a plan, and it would all unfold tomorrow. It would carry him through grade 9 at the dreaded Chino Hills high school.


	3. Seth Cohen: A Day At Sea

**A/N-** Yes its been a long time. Kudos to anyone still kicking around. But give it a read, and if you like it, give me a review.

* * *

The stealth continued.

Seth lay in his bed, listening to his parents make small talk. For such a big, well constructed… expensive house, sound sure did carry.

They were talking about him, of course.

Sandy always the generalizer, Kirsten always the worrier.

His mother was of course worried that he had no friends, that he spent so much time alone, that he listened to that weird music, had taken to wearing shirts with collars and brown pants, and finally, this shocked Seth a little, she was concerned about his sexual identity?

Seth sat up in bed half way between a cough and a laugh. Oh good lord, he thought, like any normal teenager that his parents didn't understand him, but wow.

Now it was Sandy's turn.

Generalizing time: He would make friends when he started High school, its summer, weird music is just a phase (at which point the felt the need to input his old like for ACDC), ditto with the clothes, and as for the sexual identity, Sandy didn't even touch it. Thank God.

Seth was young, perhaps slightly immature, but puberty had began and he was reasonably sure (95 or more) that he would rather look at girls than boys.

Like Summer for example. Yes, defiantly Summer, she was every type of fine.

His parents slowly went through their early morning routines, and Seth lost interest, not getting up until he had heard the second car start and reverse down the driveway.

The day had begun. He didn't know what it involved yet, but he had a rough idea. He could see the sunshine pouring in the windows, hear the waves lapping far away down the hill, the palm tree leaves whistling by the pool. It was a day for sailing. And Weed.

Yes, defiantly weed. One needed to take the fact that his Mother thought was gay, with a grain of salt, and reasonable sized joint.

He turned on his music, and threw on some clothes, it was only when he was bopping around to Built To Spill, that he saw himself in the mirror. He was wearing brown pants and a collared shirt.

His Mom deserved to think he was weird. Did they really think they would get popularity out of their offspring? The only half Jew/half newpsie for miles and miles. The only kid that had been imported from Berkley, instead of born, crawled, walked and ran within the tiny gates of Newport.

Yes he was weird, but he could appreciate that. Such things built character he reckoned.

He pursued the Jenga box. He would have to make a stop at the arcade. Street fighter #2 needed to have his ass whupped, and he needed to pad Street Fighter #1's pockets in exchange for his illicit drugs. But, really, he lived in California. Liberal central. Did it really matter?

He headed out of the house. Skateboarded down to the pier.

* * *

Chores successfully done Seth headed to his boat. He had whupped and bought. It was time to get some salt air, a buzz, and a wide ocean. 

Seth loved to think on his sailboat. Surrounded by nothing but water, he loved to just pull down the sails, drop his feet in the water and let himself drift. He thought a lot. The weed probably helped, but he liked to think that he was a bit of a philosopher at heart.

* * *

The sun was on its decline by the time he headed back inland, choosing to dock at the beach near his house than at the harbour. Who wanted the extra walk up that gigantic hill anyway? Why must rich people build their houses on hills? He mused. 

"Hey Kid, how was your day?" His Dad was at the kitchen table with a stack of files beside him, his Mom was on the phone ordering Thai.

"It was good. It was fine." Everything was always fine, Stealth, Stealth.

He passed his Mom as he headed to the stairs.

"hey Kiddo, I didn't know they made pants in that colour." his Dad teased to his back.

Seth smirked. Yeah, life sucked, but he'd survive.


End file.
